


Calm Morning

by the_pen_is_mightier



Series: waking up to you [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley has a nightmare, Fluff, M/M, Protective Aziraphale, Softness, They love each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 03:43:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20885564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_pen_is_mightier/pseuds/the_pen_is_mightier
Summary: Crowley is having a nightmare, but Aziraphale is there to comfort him.





	Calm Morning

Crowley moved. A sharp, jerky motion that drew Aziraphale abruptly from the state of half-sleep he’d been drifting through. He blinked, and the world resolved itself around him into their bedroom; for a moment it felt unfamiliar, after hundreds of years waking up alone in his flat, but it was only a moment more before he remembered the new world they’d entered since the old one had ended. 

Crowley lay curled into Aziraphale’s side. He moved again, and his head turned, and Aziraphale saw some shadowy alarm cross his closed eyes, his brow.

“Dear?” 

“’Ziraphale -” the word was a gasp.

A nightmare. Aziraphale’s mouth twisted. Crowley still got them, from time to time, though they’d lessened as the weeks had ambled into months without Heaven and Hell after them. Aziraphale drew Crowley gently closer to him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Darling, I’m here. What’s happening?” 

“Angel.” Crowley’s voice was high and tinny. “Angel, they - they’re going to -”

“They aren’t going to do anything to us.”

“But they found out -”

“No, they didn’t.” Aziraphale stroked Crowley’s hair. “No one found out about anything. They’re never going to outsmart us, my dear.” 

The tension in Crowley’s face seemed to ease somewhat. “Right - they’re idiots…” 

Aziraphale couldn’t help the quiet laugh that rose up from his stomach. The permission to agree hovered right near the permission to touch Crowley, to hold him, to wake up next to him, in terms of the best things about his new existence. “Exactly.” 

“You’re too clever for them.” 

“And you’re too brave.” Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s forehead. 

At that the rest of Crowley’s fear drained away, and a smile replaced it - a big, dumb smile that made him look like a young demon, like a fledgling. His head lowered again, onto Aziraphale’s chest, and Aziraphale felt his ear settle over the beat of his heart. 

It was such an instinctual gesture, Crowley still sleeping, unaware of himself, but it was so inexplicably trusting that Aziraphale felt it like a hundredth declaration of love. Words and images passed through his mind in the span of a few seconds, cataloguing all the things he would do for Crowley, all he would risk to protect him - he’d risk angels and demons, hellfire and damnation, he’d risk discorporation and death, he’d face God herself to keep Crowley safe and his head right here, relying on Aziraphale to be his resting-place.

Aziraphale had never truly understood his given role as a guardian, until now. 

“You don’t need to worry,” he murmured, and rubbed quiet circles into Crowley’s back. “I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.” 

But Crowley didn’t answer. He was asleep. 

Half an hour later, when his eyes finally opened, he would find Aziraphale gazing down at him with infinite fondness, and not entirely remember why. Which was just fine - the fondness was mutual, anyhow.


End file.
